Beirut has had a reputation for being party central for generations, and decades of civil war and instability hasn’t dented the desire of locals to have a good time.
From the district of Hamra, to Gemmayzeh and Mar Mikhael, there are great bars, cafes and restaurants to enjoy, but it isn’t a cheap city to get drunk in. Even this Londoner, well used to paying over the odds for food and drink, blanched a few times at the £15 or so he was billed for a vodka and tonic.
We found Mar Mikhael to be the liveliest place to go for a night out, cool and stylish with the edgy air of a Shoreditch about it. Most of the bars are gathered along Rue Armenia, which like any other street in Beirut is cluttered, polluted, noisy and an absolute nightmare for pedestrians. Pavements, where they exist, can be badly lit and poorly maintained. Drivers act as if there’s no-one else on the road.
We found the busiest section to be around Internazionale, a cool Italian-style bar at the junction with Rue Alexander Fleming, but either side and over the road there are plenty more bars to choose from, large and small, stylish and average. We parked ourselves at an outdoor table at Internazionale and watched an army of valet parkers at work, servicing the rich and powerful, their Porsches and Mercs. Music blared out from the bars and young children marched up and down trying to flog us flowers, organised by dodgy looking blokes who were clearly in control of the racket. The kids broke my heart.
The crowd was international too, a mix of people from around the Middle East, the Americas and Europe. Practically everyone had a cigarette and the Almaza beer was light, cold and refreshing. One night we ended up in a cool bar called LockStock, another in Radio Beirut, which not surprisingly has its own studio and streams music and chat online. It was quiz night so we found a table indoors, choked on the tobacco smoke and put our brains in gear, coming a creditable joint second and winning a free drink each in the process. The atmosphere was great, we joked with the locals and got a bit too drunk for our own good. I even sat through some pretty dreadful hip hop.
As well as good bars, we found some excellent places to eat. Mayrig is a popular Armenian restaurant on Rue Pasteur between Mar Mikhael and Gemmayzeh, serving food that blends Lebanese traditions with Armenian. Every dish was delicious, accompanied by a great red from Chateau Ksara in the Bekaa Valley. Another night we opted for Italian at Tavolina, hidden away on a back street.
Mar Mikhael stole Gemmayzeh’s crown a few years back as Beirut’s gentrification moved east, bringing with it arty types, classy coffee places and fancy boutiques as well as the bars and restaurants. It explains why Rue Gouraud, a mile or so to the west of Mar Mikhael, was quieter. One night we ended up in an empty bar there, chatting to the charming owner/barman and his only other customer, clearly a regular. They were bemoaning the lack of business, the inability of the government to promote Beirut as a tourist destination, and bought us shots. We felt sorry for him for his business was obviously suffering but as Graham mentioned later, his problems had more to do with the fact his bar was just a little drab and the customers had moved on. Some bars on Rue Gouraud did seem to be doing well – we particularly enjoyed one called Dragonfly – but they’d made more of an effort to create a go-to destination.
On the surface the districts are similar, with churches, apartments old and new, fashionable shops, grand palazzo, crumbling ruins and development sites. Many buildings bore the scars of war and dodgy side streets overflowed with rubbish and skinny stray cats. They ooze atmosphere and life. There’s noise and colour, charm and chaos and I loved those streets of an evening.
Further east and Gemmayzeh runs into the Beirut Central District, home to our hotel – Le Gray. It’s a popular stop on the nighttime party circuit but modern and lacking heritage. Gordon’s Café on the ground floor is sedate and popular with the rich and wealthy judging by the clientele – we had breakfast there once or twice – but the bar on the rooftop is nuts. By day we’d retreat there for a spot of sunbathing and swimming in the infinity pool but at night it became the place to be seen. We went up to have a drink on our first evening but the DJ was playing music so loud that we walked in and walked straight back out again, partly so that I could go and find my eardrums.
There are bars and restaurants scattered throughout the central area. On Rue Ahmad Shawki we tried to get into the highly rated Em Sherif Cafe but it was rammed and we didn’t stand a chance. We had more success at Zaitunay Bay – the marina and yacht club development by the venerable and empty St George’s Hotel. Lined with bars, cafes and restaurants appealing to all tastes, we stopped at Leila and had some of the best Lebanese food of the week while people promenaded and the sun went down.
Another bastion of Beirut nightlife is centred on Rue Hamra, a busy shopping street close to the American University in the west of the city, which caters for an audience not obsessed by the designer names of the Central District. We drank a few times at Danys Pub, which was pleasant enough, notable for surly service and one of many bars throughout the district. One night we traipsed around looking for one of the city’s most popular stops, t-marbouta, and eventually found it minus any signage in the corner of a nondescript shopping centre. It has a pleasant courtyard full of green plants and walls decorated with colourful shutters, and we were lucky to get a table. However, I found the food a bit over-seasoned for my taste. The Italian grub at Appetito Trattoria, on nearby Mahatma Gandhi Street, was delicious and the service excellent, a perfect stop for our last night in town.